Mutual Feelings
by Corgin
Summary: An eventual series of unrelated LokixDarcy oneshots. Some will probably have sex. Some will be happy, some angsty, some in the middle. First one is a cut out from Things Left Unsaid.


_A/N: this will be a series of unrelated Darcy x Loki oneshots. None are meant to link up, if they do woohoo. This first one was a cut out of my other fic, Things Left Unsaid. I never published this chapter. Rate, review etc. I love you all. _

_**Mutual Feelings**_

_o_

_Crash_

__Darcy woke up with a fright as _something _came into her room with a little less than perfect grace. Tossing her hair out of her face and fumbling for her glasses, she eventually turned on her bedside light to find a familiar god on her floor wearing a rather suave suit.

"For fucks sake Loki, what is going on? It's 2am."

Loki struggled up off the ground and straightened himself out, falling down onto the bed. He smelled like gin - expensive gin, mind you - and something slightly more foul than cheap wine. He looked up at her critically, tilting his head to the side.

"Why are you sleeping in my room, girl?"

Darcy sighed and got out of bed, walking over to the bathroom to get a glass of water. "This is my room," she yelled from her ensuite, "Your teleporting seems slightly fucked, you're in the wrong room. Where have you been?"

Loki began to laugh hysterically, rolling off the bed back onto the floor and staring at the ceiling.

"Are you actually drunk? Ugh, you've got to be kidding me - I've already had a long day. Here, I'll get you some water too."

"Oh, you would not believe it even if I felt inclined to tell the truth - this man is the most incredible thing I have ever seen. He took me to this place called Japan? Yes Japan, and we drank this terrible, terrible wine and oh... I must admit I may have had a bit much."

Darcy helped him back up onto the bed and pulled him out of his jacket, handing him a glass of water. She'd been editing a report for Jane all day, and all she really wanted a decent night of sleep without having to deal with some misbehaving god. Obviously that was too much to ask for, but she was too tired to be angry.

"That man - Tony Stark - the words you spoke of him were nothing but true, he was amazing!. Everyone there seemed to know who he was, he played them all like instruments. I had no issue with the native tongue, so all of the women were very impressed with my perfect Japanese - I have not felt so alive in some time."

Darcy felt her face fall, and she gathered she looked less than amused. "Women?"

"Oh yes."

Loki disappeared, and reappeared on the floor behind Darcy a few seconds later, crashing into her bed side table and knocking over the lamp before breaking into another fit of laughing. Hoping that the noise hadn't woken up Jane or Dr. Selvigg, Darcy yet again helped him stand up and pushed him back down onto the bed.

"Okay, you know how they tell people no drunk driving? Donʼt do that shit right now or youʼre going to get stuck in a wall or something. Listen, stay there and don't you dare think of moving, you're pissing me off…. wait a second, you were with Stark?"

"Yes."

"No fucking way, I had a huge crush on him growing up! He's a total playboy. How the hell did you get in contact with him?"

"You told me about him, I found him. A man like him has many uses for a god like me."

Darcy vaguely remembered the conversation they had on the rooftop three or four months prior, in which she praised Stark as a billionaire-playboy-philanthropist. She sighed when she realized that Loki was still laughing hysterically, curled over with his head in his hands.

"Loki - go have a shower. Re arrange your head and go to bed - YOUR BED. You're embarrassing yourself," She said with a sigh.

His grin fading and face falling, Loki obediently stood up and walked into the bathroom. He'd made no habit of being compliant: he'd deny doing even the simplest tasks just to make Darcy squirm, so she was almost impressed that he'd actually listened to her. Almost. When she heard the sound of running water she went back into bed, wrapping herself in blankets and putting a pillow over her head. To put it simply: Loki was driving her absolutely insane. Over the months their careful dance of catching, avoiding, chasing, snogging in the janitors closet of the research facility… it was getting old. After a few minutes Darcy heard the water stop.

"Iʼm sorry," was all he said when he came into the room. He had a towel around his waist and his hair was dripping wet, falling haphazardly around his face. Even in the low light she could see his eyes glowing, but for the first time in a while she couldn't see his ever present smile. Darcy's pulse quickened as he crawled into bed next to her, looking across at her from the other pillow.

"Why canʼt I have you?" he asked simply. He wore a bland expression and he looked confused, no hint of mirth hiding behind his eyes. Darcy shook her head and took a deep breath.

"I donʼt know…" she responded quietly, trying to turn away from him. He caught her shoulder and pulled her back to him, her head pressed against his bare chest. He didn't smell comforting to her - he smelled dangerous and enticing, perfectly alluring

"Thereʼs... something about you... I donʼt know what it is but I desperately want it. Itʼs driving me mad. You're human, unpredictable, dull in the most exciting way possible. Enthralling."

He pressed her tightly against him, running a hand through her hair and down her back. Even through her t-shirt it felt like wildfire. "Tell me you wonʼt do this to me anymore, we won't do this to each other," he mumbled in her ear.

Darcy took a deep breath, her vision flooded with nothing but colors as she felt his hands move under her shirt and press against her skin.

"I- just… no. Loki, no."

"But I know you want-"

"No. It's the middle of the night, you're still drunk, I'm tired. It's not the time."

With a sigh he let her go, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. He put his hand over his eyes, wiping his brow.

"I hate you," was all he said as he stood up, going back to the bathroom to gather his clothes. The words were enduring and kind despite what they meant.

"Yeah, well," Darcy yelled after him, "to be honest the feeling's mutual." Hers were slightly less kind.


End file.
